


Devil's Crush

by Lee Normandeau (Miri_Thompson)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon compliant through Beyond the Mat, Destiel - Freeform, Episode Tag, Episode Tage: 11x15 Beyond the Mat, M/M, Probably Canon Divergent post-Beyond the Mat, pre-destiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri_Thompson/pseuds/Lee%20Normandeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons' death and Crowley's escape are just temporary setbacks—that's what Lucifer tells himself. But damn this vessel's reactions. And damn the fact that he has to resort to chatting with the one person who knows this vessel better than anyone else: Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Damn Crowley. Somewhere worse than hell, I mean. Worse than hell and purgatory combined. I should devise a dungeon dedicated solely to tormenting that smirking, smarmy dick. No, that would give the bad doggie an exaggerated notion of his own importance. 

I close my eyes. For a second—just a second—I see Simmons, right before she sacrificed herself for me.

Huh. I’ll actually remember that sacrifice. Yes, my dollface was only a demon. And demons are nothing more than humans stripped down to their true, vile natures. And yet . . . she had a certain something. 

A stunning vessel, for one thing. (Even I can appreciate human beauty now and then.) And she made the most of it. She had style, after all. That bold afro. That staunch suit. Those ludicrous heels. It all made for an enticing package.

All right. I could see past that vessel to her demonic features. Not a pretty sight, trust me. But somehow it wasn’t unbearable. 

And she had guts. Too much guts for her own good, as it turned out. But still—it’s hard not to admire her chutzpah. She had the balls to stand up to me and demand orders. And she had the balls to try and trick Crowley on my behalf.

Stop this. I need to pull myself together. Simmons’s death and Crowley’s escape are just temporary setbacks. Nothing more. That’s what I tell myself as I appear back in hell. The pathetic, sycophantic creatures I rule rush to hear any new command, but I dismiss them with a wave of my hand. “Leave me.”

Every last demon obeys. They’re not stupid; I’ll give them that much. I sink onto my throne and try to swallow down the strange taste in my mouth. Damn it. There’s only one person around who is remotely worthy of my attention. I’ll have to resort to a little chat with him. “Castiel?”

He’s here. Of course he’s here. I couldn’t oust him when I took over his vessel. No, he’s with me every second. Ready to help against the Darkness. But also ready to thwart me again should I lay a hand on his beloved Winchesters. “Don’t be coy, little brother.”

“I’m here.”

Good. I really couldn’t stand the silent treatment. Not tonight. Talking to myself, though, is tedious. So I picture him sitting in front of me—on the floor, of course—wearing the same trench coat and business suit, right down to the unkempt tie. Yes, I’ll admit it: I’ve grown to like this get up more than I anticipated. Castiel won’t make the cover of GQ any time soon, but the holy tax accountant look does work. 

“Do you understand this?” I ask. “You have more experience than I do when it comes to—the, uh, odd things this vessel of yours experiences.”

He cocks his head at me. Sweet Dad, I can picture that questioning, constipated look of his perfectly. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! You’re feeling it too; don’t pretend otherwise.” I suck in a lungful of air. “I’m talking about the bile in my throat. The . . . the way my breath gets short when I’m not paying attention. The way my stomach clenches—”

“It’s a combination of anger and grief.” And there’s that total deadpan voice of his, like he can’t believe I need him to state something so obvious.

“Anger? Oh yes, there’s anger.” I grin—a savage, malicious grin. “Wait till you see the torments I have in store for Crowley. But grief? You’re mistaken.”

“Why do you think that?” He sounds genuinely confused. “She gave up her existence for you.”

“Simmons was nothing but a filthy human, Castiel! A filthy human turned demon. I don’t grieve them.” I slam my fist down on the arm of the throne—but then force more air down my vessel’s lungs. I refuse to lose control. “Do you know who I grieve for? Every angel we’ve lost, regardless of which side they fought for. They deserve my tears.”

“But—”

I snort. “There’s no use talking to you about this. Your idiot crush on Dean Winchester has blinded you.”

He’s not offended. And he doesn’t bother denying it. He laughs softly instead. “Dean Winchester is a good man. And he and his brother have been known to best you.” 

It was mostly Sam who bested me, but that’s still one point for Castiel. I come right back at him, though.

“Dean is a closet case. You understand that, don’t you? Granted, you have a better shot at him than that fanboy Crowley does. But don’t hold your breath waiting for him to embrace his bisexuality.” 

“I don’t care about that.” Castiel’s voice is sharp. Ha! So that little arrow of mine struck home. “Human hedonism is pleasant, but—”

“Unnecessary for us. Yes, I know.” Unnecessary, tedious and arguably stomach turning.

And yet. I can almost imagine unbuttoning that staunch suit of Simmons. I close my eyes a little, remembering the subtle way her breasts swelled beneath it . . . .

“Will you find a way to bring her back, Lucifer?” I roll my eyes as my little brother’s gruff voice destroys the moment.

But the question is valid. I might be able to manage it. But why would I? I need to focus on defeating the Darkness—which, in my favorite fantasy, will require the blood of both Winchesters and Crowley to boot. I don’t need to worry about resurrecting some barely evolved bipedal creature. Still, it might be amusing to have Simmons at my side for my eventual triumph.

Fuck me. Now that the idea is there, I can’t get it out of my head.


	2. Chapter 2

My reappearance in the bunker causes less of a stir than I anticipated. I’m almost disappointed.

Dean jumps out of his chair as I apparate in the seat next to him at one of the research tables—the one that both Winchester brats happen to be using for, er, research. Sam, who’s sitting opposite us, slams his book shut.

That’s it. No other reaction. Well, not until Dean stares at me—or into me, as if he’s trying to make eye contact with his not-so-secret angelic crush.

“Cas, you listen to me. We can beat Amara without Lucifer. I need you here, man!”

I can feel Cas stirring, but I squash him down and roll my eyes. “Really? It’s bad enough that my little brother’s in love with a mud monkey. But did it have to be one who tries to boss angels around?” 

Dean ignores me. “Come on, Cas! You can do this. Kick this bastard out!”

Sam, meanwhile, is preparing to cut his palm open again. Damn my little brother for teaching these two maggots how to expel angels. Not that it matters. A wave of my fingers freezes the younger Winchester, so I can concentrate on the romantic drama at hand.

“Is that the best you can do, Dean?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Castiel dragged you out of hell, fell from heaven for you, bled for you, gave up an army for you . . . and you can’t even utter the magic three little words?”

That gets under his skin, but he’s still determined to ignore me. “Cas, please . . . .”

“You don’t even have to leave the closet—or break out of your homophobic shell.” I lean back in the chair and cross one leg over the other. “I understand Castiel has some experience with, uh, hedonism between humans. But he’s still an angel, so that won’t be a deal breaker.”

“Look, Cas, I don’t care that you let him in. We’ve all screwed up, okay? Just get him out!”

“I know my brother, Dean.” I give him my best patronizing smile. “Castiel will take you on any terms you’re willing to offer. Even a continuation of this bizarre, undeclared, chaste affair you two have going.”

Dean can’t ignore that. Sweet Dad, he’s so predictable. He finally looks me in the eye. Me, not Castiel. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I unfreeze Sam. “There’s a bit of research I need to do. And a few ingredients for a spell I need to borrow.”

The brats exchange glances.

“What kind of spell?” Sam demands. “Does this have to do with the Darkness?”

“Sadly, no. I’m looking to resurrect a demon.”

Sam gives me a blank look. “Why?”

I shrug. “She’s hot?”

He snorts. “Like you would care. You despise demons.”

“I do. But this one knows her place. And she has a—a certain something.”

They look at each other again. “Do we know her?” Dean asks.

“I doubt it. Oh—it’s not that one Castiel is so fond of.”

“Meg.” Sam says it like I should remember. “Her name was Meg. And she was devoted to you.”

“Only until she fell for my little brother. And resurrecting her would make things, ah, complicated. I have no desire to interfere with Destiel.”

Dean sinks back into his chair and puts his face into his hands. “You know that term why?”

“Because some of that fanfic is surprisingly worth reading. Now, to business.”

“Wait.” Sam gives me a look. “You think we’re going to help you resurrect some demon?”

I stand up. “If you expel me, I’ll come back. You don’t have any wards that will keep me out—thank you for teaching me how to get around them, by the way—and you won’t risk harming Castiel’s vessel.”

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice is savage. “That don’t mean we can’t trap you.”

“That would only lead to a stalemate. If you surround me in burning holy oil, I’ll clamp down tight on my little brother. If, on the other hand, you cooperate, I’ll let you chat with him directly.”

“You’ll—wait.” Dean’s face is comically confused. “What does that mean?”

“We’re all working against the Darkness, remember? Castiel knows you can’t defeat her without me, so he’s not going to attempt to expel me from this vessel . . . not as long as I don’t harm you two or go on some bloody rampage against humanity. And that, I suppose, can wait.”

“So you’ll let him take back control?” Sam looks incredulous.

“Just long enough to allow him a short conversation with Dean.” I place a hand over my vessel’s heart. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love.”

Sam ignores the strangled sound coming out of his brother. “How would we know it’s really Cas and not just you play acting?”

Dean pulls himself together. “I’ll know.”

I nod. That’s probably true—he was suspicious from the start.

Sam stares across the table at his brother. “Are we really considering this?”

“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “There’s one last part to this bargain. You two don’t give any help to Crowley.”

“I thought Crowley was your bitch now.” Dean folds his arms over his chest.

“A disloyal bitch, as it turns out. Although there’s a tiny part of me that doesn’t blame him. I might have gone a smidgen overboard with the puppy play.” I hold up my vessel’s thumb and fore finger to show just how small a smidgen.

Sam shakes his head. “We so don’t want to know.”

“True,” I agree. “You really don’t. All that matters is that he used up a Hand of God trying to smite me—never mind saving it to wield against the Darkness. In fact, he’s probably trying to cut another deal with the Darkness as we speak.”

I pause to let that sink in. “So, have we reached an understanding?”

Dean grunts. “It ain’t like we have much choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Theatregirl2977 for betaing this chapter! All mistakes, of course, are mine.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved Beyond the Mat. Dean's devotion to Cas, even after he faced up to the decision Cas made, filled my Destiel heart with joy. But then they killed off Simmons! I thought she had a lot of potential as a character, and I was on the verge of shipping her with Casifer—however unlikely a pairing, considering the devil's contempt for humans and demons—so I couldn't just leave it at that. Hence this fic.
> 
> Meanwhile, many thanks to Elrhiarhodan for her beta! Any mistakes are mine, and likely retained against her advice.


End file.
